


Tempest

by MorbidFixation



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Multi, This is really just a snippet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 23:08:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9791222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorbidFixation/pseuds/MorbidFixation
Summary: She was a succubus, and a powerful one at that. She'd brought grown men, groveling and sobbing to their knees with little more than a glance and a smile. Control was a game she played, wrapping men tight round her little fingers. She wasn't controlled.  And she'd be damned if it started now





	

**Author's Note:**

> Really, this is just a snippet of a larger piece featuring the winchesters, a succubus, Castiel, and of course, Lucifer. . .

Her eyes met his in a glare, though it did little to faze him. She raised her chin as she followed his order retaining still that bit of defiance even as she stripped herself of clothing, allowing them to pool at her feet until she stood bare before him. Blue eyes ran across her flesh, leaving heat and goosebumps in their wake. She fought the shiver, her mouth remained shut, and only her lips tilting into a frown signalled her distaste.  
Within her there might be demons blood, burning hot and feral within her veins but she'd be damned if she'd let him control her.  
She was a succubus, and a powerful one at that. She'd brought grown men, groveling and sobbing to their knees with little more than a glance and a smile. Control was a game she played, wrapping men tight round her little fingers. She wasn't controlled. And she'd be damned if it started now.  
He might be the king of hell, but she would never be a slave, to him or anyone.  
She was the wild card. An untamable force, not some pet to be collared and chained.  
Lucifer extended a hand toward her, those pale blue eyes dancing as her name left his lips in a strange yet alluring pur that made her thighs clench, yet sounded so foreign and out of place spoken from his mighty disheveled trench coat clad vessel.  
She took a moment, swallowing past the thought and discomfort of wrong that Castiel's vessel brought to the table and went to him, gliding across the floor and slipping her hand into his.  
A shiver shook through through her as his hand engulfed hers in a shroud of warmth on the verge of burning, but still there was something, dare she think it, comforting, about the familiarity of said hand and those pale blue eyes. A familiarity of his warmth and beneath the smell of ash and brimstone, which faded more and more as the days wore on, she could still smell it, and it made her feel warm and giddy. Beneath it all, was Cass, with his faint scent of lemon grass and mint. . .

**Author's Note:**

> Should I continue? Thoughts? Suggestions?


End file.
